Haunted by the Past
by EriksAngel2
Summary: Finally Complete! Christine has married Raoul and lives with him. Christian is her son who reminds her so much of the past. Can she live without her Angel? PG-13 for later chapters.
1. Accusation

Author's Notes  
  
Some Phans may have read the book Progeny by Becky L. Meadows. This story is in some ways like that book, but I have made sure that it is much different than the book. I am not in any way trying to steal a wonderfully written story and call it my own. I would like also like to let my readers know that the point of view in this story changes at times. I will identify the character who is telling the story when the point of view changes. The name will be at the top of the page. Suggestions and comments highly appreciated. Enjoy!  
  
Christine  
  
"Christian!" I gasped. "What are you doing?" My fifteen year old son had taken apart my husband Raoul's best watch and was picking up each piece and examining it.  
  
"I'm fixing it Mother," he said simply, picking up another piece and putting it back in the watch body.  
  
"No Christian! You've ruined your father's best watch!" I said sternly, and I reached for the pieces.  
  
"Mother don't!" he cried and pushed my hand away. "I'm fixing it! Father said earlier it wasn't working!" At that, he hastily resumed his work.  
  
"Your father won't be happy Christian," I warned.  
  
"Yes he will," Christian retorted. I sighed and walked out of the room. I made my way to Raoul's study and pushed the doors open. Raoul was sitting at his desk writing. He looked up when he heard the door shut behind me.  
  
"Hello dear," he said smiling. "Is something wrong?" I sat down on the divan in front of the fireplace and sighed.  
  
"Please don't be too upset Raoul, but Christian took apart your best watch." Raoul stood up quickly, his face flushed red. "Raoul please, don't be harsh! He said he was fixing it! He was trying to help!" My pleas fell upon deaf ears. Raoul pushed past me and into the hall. He strode quickly down to the parlor where Christian was. He walked through the double doors and looked at Christian who had his back to us.  
  
"Christian Philippe de Chagny! What the-" Raoul's tirade stopped short when Christian stood up, walked over to us, handed Raoul his watch- completely repaired- and smiled at him proudly.  
  
"I fixed it for you father," he said.  
  
"Oh, um, thank you Christian," Raoul replied stunned.  
  
"Your welcome," Christian said and walked over to the piano. He sat down and began playing a song I sang him to sleep with as a baby. Raoul turned to me.  
  
"Christine, I need to speak with you. Please come with me," he whispered. He took my arm gently and led me to his office. When we stepped inside the office, Raoul shut and locked the doors behind us. I sat down on the divan.  
  
"Raoul, what is it?" I asked. He stared at me, his face grave and worried looking.  
  
"Erik raped you didn't he Christine?" 


	2. The Flight to the Opera

"What?" I asked. I was shocked for two reasons. One: Raoul had said Erik's name. Two: the question was completely insane.  
  
"Christine," Raoul walked over to me and put his hands on my shoulders, "you don't have to lie. I know that Christian is not my son." I stared at him, my mouth open in shock. How did he know? I had known Christian was not Raoul's son since before he was born; but how did Raoul find out?  
  
"Why would you think that Raoul?" I asked innocently.  
  
"I've known for a few months now. It's quite obvious Christine. He looks nothing like me and everything like him. Well," he laughed bitterly, "maybe not everything. At least Christian is good looking." I stood up and slapped him across the face, angry tears forming in my eyes.  
  
"Don't you ever, ever, insult Erik again Raoul! Ever, do you hear me?!" I screamed. Raoul looked stunned. He had his hand on his face where I had slapped him. He recovered quickly.  
  
"Christine he's dead!" he roared.  
  
"No Raoul!" I yelled. I fell to my knees and covered my face with my hands. "Please don't! Don't say that!"  
  
"Why Christine?!" He shouted. "Are you afraid of the truth? Erik is dead do you hear me?! Dead!" He pulled me up off the floor and looked me in the eyes. His last words before he left the room were barely a whisper. "Erik is dead."  
  
I walked in a daze back to the parlor. Christian still sat at the piano playing the gypsy song I sang to him as a baby. It was the song Erik sang to me the first time he took me through my dressing room mirror. Unable to stand it anymore, I ran out into the hall and yelled for our butler.  
  
"James!" He walked out of the dining room.  
  
"Yes Madame? I was just setting the table for dinner," he said.  
  
"Never mind that James. I need a carriage," I told him.  
  
"Now Madame?" James asked.  
  
"Yes," I replied.  
  
"Very well. I shall tell the stable boy to ready the horses," he said and walked away.  
  
A few minutes later, my carriage was ready. I climbed in and pulled the hood of my cloak over my head.  
  
"Where to Madame?" the driver asked.  
  
"The Paris Opera," I replied.  
  
"Right," he said and we were off. 


	3. Cries to the Dark

When we arrived at the Opera, I stepped out of the carriage and turned to the driver.  
  
"There's no need for you to wait for me. I might be a while. I'll get another carriage for the ride home," I told him.  
  
"I understand Madame," he replied.  
  
"Oh, if my husband should happen to ask where I am, please tell him I went to see my friend Meg at the Opera," I said.  
  
"Yes Ma'am," he said bowing. I smiled at him then ran up the steps leading to the front doors of the Opera House.  
  
When I got inside, I smiled again. It felt wonderful to be back. I looked around happily at the marble staircases and the beautiful tapestries. I walked down a hall to my old dressing room. The door was open so I looked inside. It was empty. The only furniture of any kind in the room was the ornate mirror that covered one portion of a wall. I walked over to it and ran my fingers across the glass.  
  
Fifteen years ago, Erik had taken me through this mirror. At the time I had been frightened. Now I wanted nothing more than for Erik to come to me again. I pushed on the mirror hoping it would give. It didn't and I didn't know how to open it.  
  
"Erik!" I called. "Erik please come to me!" When nothing happened, I left the room and made my way down to the labyrinth Erik had called home. I came out of a passageway and found I had unwittingly come to the underground lake. I walked along the edge calling for my Angel.  
  
"Erik, I miss you! Please come to me! I love you!"  
  
I looked around for any sign of him. The boat I had ridden in many times was nowhere to be seen. I walked somberly back towards the passage I had come out of. As I walked, I saw a quick movement out of the corner of my eye.  
  
"Erik?!" I yelled as I turned around excitedly. I heard and saw nothing. I convinced my self that I had been imagining things. Erik was dead. I knew it, but I didn't want to believe it. In my heart I always hoped that I was wrong; that I made a mistake and only thought he died. I always hoped. 


	4. The Angel's Heartache

Erik  
  
I knew I shouldn't have moved. I should have just waited until she was gone to come out. I could have if she hadn't filled her voice with such longing and hope. The longing in her voice tore at my heart and burned in my soul.  
  
When she began to walk away, I moved just to get a better look at her. She saw me however and I was forced back into the shadows. I had to bite my lip to keep from calling her name. She owned my soul and held my heart in her hand.  
  
After she was gone, I walked slowly back to my lair. I went into the room that had once been hers and laid down on the bed. The room still smelled like her. The scent of her hair still lingered on the pillows. I grabbed one of them and held it close to me.  
  
I longed to wrap my arms around her again and whisper words of love into her ear. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to feel her against me and feel the passion we shared fifteen long years ago. I longed for her to be mine again. To be my wife; not the wife of some snobby patron.  
  
I knew I could have none of this. She was a mother. If not for her son I could have gotten her back. It would have been so easy to kill Raoul and take her back; but her son complicated things. She loved him more than she loved Raoul. I couldn't ruin her life by taking her son away from her.  
  
I dropped my hand to the side of the bed and reached underneath it. I felt around until I found what I had been searching for; a knife. The blade gleamed even in the dim, candlelit room. I raised it up and positioned it directly over my heart. Quite ironic, I thought. This is the place I choose to die for Christine, when this is also the place where she gave herself to me completely.  
  
I had just started to bring the knife down to end my life, when I felt someone grab my wrist. I looked up and nearly dropped the knife in shock. I knew who I was looking at, but I couldn't believe it.  
  
I slowly put the knife down next to me. I sat up, my heart beating rapidly in surprise. I cleared my throat and looked around the room nervously. I hadn't even heard them come in. I finally looked back into the eyes of my rescuer. They were full of confusion, disbelief, and sorrow. 


	5. Revelation

I reached out and touched the face of the person staring at me.  
  
"Christine." I murmured and began playing with her long, brown hair. She stood silently, tears running down her cheeks. I stood up and hesitated a moment before wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her hair. "Oh Christine. God have I missed you!" She lingered in my arms a moment and then pushed me away.  
  
"You have a funny way of showing it Erik!" she declared with a hint of anger in her voice.  
  
"What?" I asked slightly taken aback by her mood.  
  
"You pretended to die Erik! Did you get tired of me?! Or had you planned it all along; satisfy your lust then turn me away! You lying bastard!" she screamed.  
  
"Christine no. Please listen to me. I-"  
  
"And Raoul has been raising your son!" she shrieked and pointed at me. I stared at her stunned for a moment.  
  
"Christian is-"  
  
"Your son," she finished for me. I laughed bitterly. It couldn't be. I had been there when the child was born. He looked just like Raoul. He had light hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen.  
  
"Christine, you must be mistaken. It's not possible. I saw Christian when he was born. He-thankfully- looks nothing like me. He looks like the Vicomte," I said knowing she would have to listen to reason.  
  
"How many times have you seen Christian since he was born?" she asked.  
  
"I stopped coming when he was about two. But you can't possibly say he looks even remotely like me," I argued.  
  
"He looks just like you Erik," she told me.  
  
"Poor boy," I muttered. "I don't see how though. His hair was very light, blonde if you ask me, and he had blue eyes. I have black hair and gold eyes if you haven't noticed. Not to mention my least flattering feature. He looks like his father."  
  
"Yes, he does look like his father, and that's you," she stated. "He looks so much different now than when he was a baby. His hair is as black as yours now and his eyes used to be brown with flecks of gold. Now they're completely gold."  
  
I opened my mouth to argue, could think of nothing to say, and closed it again. It made sense. The timing was right, and most babies are born with blue eyes anyway. Part of me was thrilled. I was a father. Another part of me however was convinced there was a mistake.  
  
"Christine, are you absolutely sure that Christian is my son?" I asked, knowing, happily waiting for, yet dreading the answer all at once.  
  
"Yes Erik," she replied so confidently that I had to believe her. I cleared my throat.  
  
"Very well then. I wish to meet him," I stated. Now it was Christine's turn to be shocked.  
  
"What?!" she cried.  
  
"You heard me. I want to meet my son. Fifteen years is quite long enough to let that pitiful excuse for a human being poison my son's mind," I growled.  
  
"Oh, but Erik, Raoul is the only father Christian has ever known. Don't take him away from Raoul. He wouldn't understand," she begged.  
  
"Did you think I was going to tell Christian that I am his father?" I asked. I laughed bitterly. "God forbid that he ever finds out. I merely wish to be more of a.mentor to my son." Christine sighed heavily. I knew she was going to give in.  
  
"Fine Erik," she said. I smiled deviously. She noticed and looked at me seriously. "I don't want you teaching him anything dangerous. My smile faded.  
  
"What, in your opinion, is 'dangerous'?" I asked.  
  
"Anything you consider fun or highly amusing," she stated.  
  
"Come now Christine. Not everything I find amusing is dangerous," I said.  
  
"Well then. use your best judgment," she replied.  
  
"I will. Don't worry." I kissed the top of her head and looked into her eyes. "Bring Christian here tomorrow. Let him wander freely; the managers will not care. I will alert them of his coming and that he is to be left alone. You need not stay. I'll take care of everything. He will return to your chateau on his own after I have met him," I told her.  
  
She agreed and left after a quick kiss goodbye. The rest of the night, I found myself wondering what my son would be like. Thoughts of him were in my mind as I drifted to sleep. 


	6. Stolen in the Dark

Christian  
  
"Why mother?" I asked after she told me she wanted me to go to the Opera House the next day.  
  
"One of my dreams if for you to perform there someday. It's better for you to get an idea of what it's like now," she answered.  
  
"Perform? I'm not good enough to perform there," I told her.  
  
"Christian! You are most certainly good enough to perform there," she replied.  
  
"Perhaps," I said knowing I couldn't argue but wanting to be modest.  
  
"You should get to bed Christian. You're leaving early tomorrow. Your father is going away on business and he's going to drop you off on his way," she told me.  
  
"Alright. Good night mother," I said and kissed her on the cheek.  
  
"Good night Christian," she said smiling. I walked upstairs to get ready for bed. As I entered my bedroom, I noticed something was wrong. A soft breeze played around my face, and my curtains flapped gently at my open balcony doors. I hadn't opened them before.  
  
"Is someone there?" I called into the darkness. I heard no response so I walked towards my balcony. I went slowly and cautiously, looking around every part of my room. I stepped out onto the balcony and looked out across our property. I could see mother's garden below me.  
  
Suddenly, as I stared into the dark, I felt a hand grabbed the back of my neck and another one cover my nose and mouth with a cloth. I struggled, but I could feel myself weakening. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice. It was so calm and comforting that I felt I had to listen to it.  
  
"Don't worry Christian; you're fine. I won't hurt you," it said. I immediately stopped struggling and listened; hoping the person who had spoken would say more. Their voice was so amazing that even one more word would have sent chills down my spine. "That's good Christian," I heard once I had relaxed. "Very good. Now, what I want you to do is sleep." At that, everything went black, and I knew no more.  
  
When I woke, I found myself in a dim, candlelit room. I was lying on a bed. I looked around and saw a dresser and two doors. I got up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. Sitting on it were a silver handled hairbrush and a small mirror. I picked up the brush and looked at it.  
  
Several long, dark hairs were caught in it. If I hadn't known I wasn't at the chateau, I would have thought the hairs belonged to my mother. I put the brush down and walked to one of the doors. I gripped the handle and tried to open it; it was locked. I tried the second one and found it did open. I cracked it and found a small bathroom. I went in and washed my face then came back out and sat on the edge of the bed. I was staring absently at the dresser when I noticed something carved into its door. I stood up and looked closer; they were letters.  
  
CD  
  
"CD," I whispered, and traced the letters with my finger. Right away one thing, one person, came to mind. "Christine Daae," I murmured, remembering my mother's maiden name had been Daae.  
  
"Very good Christian." The voice behind me made me turn around in shock. I saw no on, yet I was sure I had heard a voice right behind me. Suddenly I saw a shadowed figure step out of a dark corner.  
  
It was a man. He seemed familiar yet I could not tell where I had seen him before. He was perhaps a few inches taller than me and looked a few pounds heavier as well. I was sure however that the weight was from muscle, not fat. He wore black evening clothes that allowed him to blend into the shadows. Besides his white shirt, the only other white he wore was not gloves as I was accustomed to seeing, but a mask. It covered the right side of his face while the left side remained uncovered.  
  
"Who are you?" I asked rather rudely. He blinked and seemed momentarily shocked by my blunt approach. After a moment's hesitation, he smiled slightly and walked towards me, extending his hand as he came.  
  
"Forgive me. My name is Erik Destler," he told me.  
  
"Trying to show that I could be polite, I shook his hand and said, "I'm pleased to meet you Monsieur Destler." He laughed softly and I frowned.  
  
"Call me Erik," he stated. 


	7. Questions and Answers

"Alright," I said. I looked at him again. He looked like such a gentleman but wanted me to address him so informally. "May I ask you something Mon-Erik?"  
  
"Of course Christian," he replied.  
  
"A couple of things really. How is it that you know who I am, and are you the one who brought me here, wherever here is?" I asked.  
  
"Why don't you come out here," he indicated the door that had been locked earlier, "and I will answer you questions."  
  
I followed him out of the bedroom and into a larger room that may have been the sitting room. There was a divan against one wall that was flanked by two enormous bookcases. I looked at some of the titles and I noticed that he had all of Shakespeare's works.  
  
"Do you like Shakespeare?" he asked.  
  
"Oh yes," I replied still looking at the books.  
  
"Do you have a favorite?" he continued.  
  
"I think I would have to say Othello," I answered.  
  
"Really? That's my favorite too. Although I do quite enjoy Macbeth," he commented.  
  
"Yes, me too," I said absently. "You read medical books?"  
  
"One has to be prepared for everything," he stated and moved to stand beside me. "I prefer mental health and psychology books to physical health books however. The human mind is a fascinating subject. I've found that I can read people even if I never speak to them."  
  
I turned to look at him. He was watching me with great intensity. His golden eyes seemed to glow. I blinked suddenly as I realized his eyes looked just like mine. I turned my attention back to the books. For some reason I could no longer look at him.  
  
"Is something wrong Christian?" he asked. I sighed, remembering his comment about being able to read people.  
  
"My mother will be worried about me," I stated.  
  
"No doubt she will be. I can let her know you are with me if you like," he said.  
  
"What I would like is for you to answer my questions. I know you brought me here, but how do you know me?"  
  
He sighed. I looked at him again. He had his arms folded across his chest and was staring at the floor. He looked back up at me. His eyes seemed to be filled with a warmth that looked unnatural for him.  
  
"Yes, I did bring you here, but only because I wished to meet you," he stated.  
  
"But how do you know who I am?" I asked again. He tipped his head to the side and thought a moment.  
  
"You could consider me an acquaintance of your family," he stated.  
  
"I've never heard of you before," I said.  
  
"That's because your father hates me. He's actually jealous of me I think," he replied. 


	8. Worries of an Angel

Christine  
  
I paced the floor in Christian's room, nervously wringing my hands. His window was open and his bed was still made. There was no sign of a struggle and yet I was sure he had been kidnapped. As I paced, Raoul walked in. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him.  
  
"Oh Raoul! I'm so worried!" I cried. He stroked my hair in such a way that I was reminded of Erik. I gasped and pulled away from Raoul.  
  
"What is it Christine?" he asked.  
  
"I know where Christian is!" I shouted gleefully.  
  
"Where?!" Raoul asked excitedly.  
  
"At the Opera House!" I yelled. Raoul's face fell slightly.  
  
"Christine, I was supposed to take Christian there," he said quietly.  
  
"He's there, I know he's there!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Christine," he murmured. I hugged him again then ran to the door. "Where are you going?" he asked.  
  
"To find Christian," I stated and ran into the hall. "James!" I yelled as I ran to my room. I grabbed a traveling cloak and ran back into the hall where James was waiting.  
  
"What do you need Madame?" he questioned.  
  
"A carriage," I replied. "I'm going to find Christian."  
  
"Yes Madame. I'll get it ready right away," he said and walked off.  
  
When I climbed into the carriage a few minutes later, I practically shouted at the driver when I told him to go to the Opera House.  
  
"And please hurry," I added.  
  
"Yes ma'am," he replied, and I felt the carriage speed up. 


	9. Bitter Tears

Christian  
  
I cocked an eyebrow as he dropped his arms to his sides.  
  
"Come again?" I finished my stance by folding my arms across my chest. He did the same.  
  
"It's quite a long story. In short, I want to kill your father, you father wants to kill me, and really it's all centered around your mother. Maybe you should ask her," he stated.  
  
I made a noise of disbelief and closed my eyes. I dropped my head back and my arms to my sides.  
  
"I'm dreaming and I am more than ready to wake up now!" I shouted to no one in particular. I stood like that for a few moments longer. Suddenly I heard what sounded like fluttering book pages accompanied by Erik's voice.  
  
"Catch." I opened my eyes to see where the noise was coming from when I felt something hit the back of my head.  
  
"What the Hell?!" I shouted.  
  
"Language Christian," Erik said smirking as he stepped into view. "Did your father teach you that?"  
  
"No, I picked that up somewhere else. At least my father doesn't throw books at me!" I yelled, checking my head for blood.  
  
"I told you to catch it," Erik stated waving a hand in frustration.  
  
"Could've given me more warning," I mumbled and I bent to pick up the book. I grabbed it and something fluttered out. I made a grab for it when Erik's hand shot out of nowhere and snatched it out of the air. He studied it momentarily before handing it to me.  
  
"You can have it if you want it. I-" he stopped and trailed of as though he might go on but shook his head and closed his mouth. I took the paper he held out to me and realized it was a picture from a newspaper. It showed my mother and father on their wedding day. The caption read, "Viscount de Chagny marries childhood love Christine Daae, daughter of the late violinist."  
  
I looked up at Erik, waiting for an explanation as to why he had this. When I looked however his back was to me, one arm bent, presumably at his face, the other at his side holding his mask. I cleared my throat and in one fluid movement, the hand holding the mask flew to his face and he turned quickly to face me again. He blinked quickly and I did the same. He had been crying. 


	10. The Ring

Christine  
  
I ran into Erik's lair to find him sleeping on the divan. I walked to him and gently kissed his cheek. His eyes shot open and he tensed at my touch. He relaxed when he realized it was me and brought his hand to my face.  
  
I opened my mouth to speak, but Erik put a finger to my lips and stood, motioning for me to follow him. I did so obediently and he led me to my old bedroom. The door was cracked slightly, so I pushed it farther open and poked my head in.  
  
Christian was sleeping on my bed in the exact same position Erik had been moments before. The right side of his face was on the pillow. He was on his stomach, his left arm dangling off the bed, and his right arm up above his head.  
  
I smiled and looked over at Erik. He was looking at Christian with a warmth in his eyes I had seen only when he looked at me. I gently touched his arm and he looked down at me. He kissed the top of my head and led me back into the sitting room, shutting the bedroom door behind him.  
  
"What is it you wanted Christine?" he asked.  
  
"I figured Christian was here and I wanted to make sure he was alright," I stated.  
  
"Did you think I would harm him Christine?" he inquired.  
  
"Of course not Erik. Not unless you had to," I answered.  
  
"So why were you worried?" he asked.  
  
"Because I'm his mother. It's my job to worry about him," I replied. Erik smiled at me and took my hands. His smile faded when he looked at the ring I wore. The ring Raoul had placed on my finger at our wedding.  
  
"Where is the ring I gave you Christine?" Erik questioned. I dropped my head forward silently hoping Erik would forgive me for not having it.  
  
"Raoul made me take it off," I said quietly.  
  
"Do you still have it?" he asked. I nodded. "Then when you get back to the chateau just put it back on." I looked up at him glad that he hadn't been upset.  
  
"Of course Erik," I said. He smiled again and kissed me lightly.  
  
"Now, I suggest you return home. You don't want to cause suspicion," he told me.  
  
"When will Christian come home?" I asked.  
  
"Whenever he wants to," he answered.  
  
"Alright. I don't know when I can come back; sometime later this week maybe. Raoul is away on business," I told him.  
  
"Come back whenever you like Christine," he said. I nodded and he wrapped his arms around me. "Goodbye my love," he whispered. I kissed him gently and walked out of his lair. 


	11. The Mask

Erik  
  
I watched Christine leave then poured myself a glass of wine. I was sitting on the divan deep in thought when Christian's voice interrupted my thoughts.  
  
"Why do you wear that mask?" My head snapped up to look at him. He was leaning against the frame of the door to the bedroom. How long had he been there? Had he seen Christine? I cleared my throat and finished my wine.  
  
"Why do you want to know?" I challenged. He started to walk towards me.  
  
"I just wondered. It's just kind of unusual," he stated. I stared at him dumbstruck. No one had ever asked me about my mask before. I folded my arms across my chest and looked down at the floor. A few moments later, I looked up to say something. When I did however, I saw Christian reach towards my face and felt my mask come off.  
  
"Curse you boy!" I screamed, and I fell to the floor covering my face with my hands. "Give it back! Give me my mask boy!" I heard it drop to the floor and I put it back on as quickly as I could. I stood up, a blinding rage taking hold of me. "Did you see?!" Christian's face was pale but he made no effort to respond. "Answer me! Did you see?!" He took a few steps back from me and I lunged at him. My hands closed around his neck. He clawed at my arms trying to get me to release him. "Answer the question!"  
  
"Erik please," he whispered. I immediately thought of Christine and released him. He fell to the ground gasping for breath.  
  
"Christian answer me," I said calmly yet forcefully. "Did you see?" He looked up at me and his face said it all. 


	12. Nightmares

"Why God?! Why did you curse me with this face?!" I cried to the darkness of my room. I had left Christian in the sitting room. I knew he had seen my face. "Why was I condemned to this Hell I live in?" I moaned and collapsed to the floor. "Maybe I do deserve this. Maybe I should be alone. I know I don't deserve Christine. She is so beautiful, so beautiful. Why God do you torment me so?!"  
  
At that I broke down completely. I cried until I could cry no more. I climbed up onto my bed, feeling more helpless than I had in a long time. I finally fell into an uneasy sleep, plagued once again by the nightmares of my past.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"No Erik!"  
  
"But Mother-"  
  
"No Erik! You can't! Go play the piano."  
  
"I want to play with the other children Mother."  
  
"Do you want them to take your mask?"  
  
"No ma'am."  
  
"Do you want them to see your face?"  
  
"No ma'am."  
  
Then you cant play with them."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Shut up boy!"  
  
"Please let me out!"  
  
"No! Now shut up and stop crying!"  
  
"Can I have my mask back?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Give it back! Give me my mask!"  
  
"No boy! People are coming to see your ugly face, not your mask!"  
  
"Will you at least let me out of this cage?"  
  
"Not if you don't shut up and stop crying!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Erik Destler, by order of his Excellency the Shah of Persia, you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. Your sentence will be carried out at dawn on the 31st day of October. Do you have any requests before then?"  
  
"Just one."  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"That the Shah dies a slow painful death and burns in Hell for all eternity."  
  
"Take him away!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I woke with a start to hear music playing. I ran out into the sitting room and found Christian seated at the organ playing a song I had written.  
  
"You do not touch this boy!" I yelled. "I let you stay here when most people would die before they cross my threshold! Do you want me to hate you?!"  
  
"I'm sorry Erik. I didn't know. I didn't mean to upset you," he said hurriedly. I could tell he meant it.  
  
"I'm sorry Christian. I just have a problem controlling my anger sometimes," I stated.  
  
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.  
  
"No!" I shouted. Christian looked shocked. "I-I mean, you can if you want to."  
  
"Then I guess I'll stay for a while longer; if that's ok with you I mean," he said.  
  
"Of course it is Christian," I replied. I was shocked when he smiled and I found myself smiling back, for the first time in a long time, at someone other than Christine. 


	13. Discovery

Christian  
  
I stayed with Erik for about a week. Only once during that time did I think about the fact that I didn't really know where I was. The thing I did think about however was that every time I looked at Erik it was like looking in a mirror. His eyes were gold like mine and seemed to look straight into your soul. His hair was the color of a raven and slicked back in the same style as mine. I also noticed that we shared several mannerisms, stances, and a deep love for music.  
  
The day before I left, I sat on the bed in the room I had been staying in looking at the book Erik had thrown at me. I opened it up and saw a sheet of music on the first page titled "The Thorns". I scanned it quickly and was about to turn the page when I noticed writing in the bottom corner. It read: "To Christine, My Angel of Music. I ask that you have this played at your wedding as a gift from your Angel. All my love always, Erik." I began to hum the song to myself and I realized I had heard it before. It brought back a memory long forgotten.  
  
I was two years old. Mother and I were both sick with scarlet fever. She was sleeping peacefully, but I was restless. I felt terrible. I sat up in bed and just as I was about to cry out, someone said my name. The voice was soothing and perfect. I thought I was hearing an Angel. I laid back down and they started to hum. I looked to find the voice and, just before I went to sleep, I saw a man dressed completely in black. All except his white half mask.  
  
I brought myself out of the past and flipped through the pages of the book. It was filled with pictures of mother. There were also newspaper articles and reviews of her performances. As I got nearer to the back, I started seeing more about mother and father. Their wedding, their honeymoon, and the birth of their first child; Christian Phillipe de Chagny...me. 


	14. Memories

I walked out into the sitting room, book under my arm, to find Erik sitting on the divan reading Othello. A bottle of Merlot sat on the end table next to a glass which was nearly empty. I cleared my throat and Erik looked up at me.  
  
"Yes Christian? Is there something you need?" he asked putting his book down.  
  
"You've lost your page," I stated pointing to the closed book. He waved his hand as if to dismiss someone.  
  
"Page 79; the beginning of scene two in act three. Othello speaks first. Now, what do you need?"  
  
"I wanted to ask you about this," I said and held the book out to him. He took it but kept his gaze on me.  
  
"What about this?" he asked.  
  
"Well, mainly what it is," I answered.  
  
"Can't you tell?" he questioned.  
  
"It's a scrapbook of my mother's life since she started working at the Opera House," I replied. "Why do you have it?"  
  
"I made it," he told me.  
  
"Why?" I asked. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.  
  
"Have a seat," he said. As I did so, he stood up and began pacing. I waited patiently until he stopped and looked at me. "I made it because I love her."  
  
"What?" I asked growing more and more confused every second.  
  
"It's a very long story," he stated.  
  
"I don't care," I replied.  
  
"Very well then, it all started about 15 years ago." 


	15. The Truth

Erik  
  
"Your mother had just come here."  
  
"Wait, what do you mean 'here'?" Christian asked. "This isn't the Opera House."  
  
"Yes it is. The fifth cellar of the Opera House, but the Opera House all the same," I informed him. "May I continue?"  
  
"Yes, go ahead."  
  
"Like I said, Christine had just come to the Opera. She went to an audition and I watched, as I always do, from Box 5," I stated.  
  
"Isn't Box 5-"  
  
"I will explain everything Christian. If you have questions when I am done, then please, feel free to ask."  
  
"Alright," he said, and I began to pace as the story came out.  
  
"I could tell she had great talent right away. She just needed some more instruction. After her audition, she was cast as a chorus girl. I could tell she was disappointed. I soon learned that her dressing room was at the end of one of my passage ways. I gained her trust and gave her voice lessons all from behind her mirror. She called me her Angel of Music.  
  
"One day at a rehearsal, I became displeased with the performance of la Carlotta, the leading soprano. I caused an 'accident' that troubled her so much that she quit. Christine had been taking lessons from me for quite some time, and she replaced la Carlotta as the leading soprano. She sang like an Angel at her first performance.  
  
"After the performance, I brought her here by taking her through the mirror of her dressing room. She was frightened, so I sang her to sleep and carried her to her bedroom."  
  
"You mean the one I've been staying in?" Christian asked. His voice startled me, but I welcomed the break. My throat was getting dry. I took a drink of wine before answering.  
  
"Yes. You noticed her initials carved on the dresser correct?" He nodded.  
  
"So then what happened?" he urged.  
  
"The next morning, she came out of her room and found me playing the organ. I believe I was working on my opera," I stated.  
  
"You're writing an opera?" Christian asked.  
  
"Wrote an opera. Remember, this was almost 16 years ago. Anyway, she came over to me and pulled off my mask. I daresay you get your curiosity from her. I had hoped to God that she would never see my face, but there was nothing I could do to prevent it. She was frightened of me like I was one of the damned who had escaped Hell. I didn't want her to think I was a monster. I loved her more than anything and still do. I took her back to her world but continued to demand that she be given leading roles in each performance.  
  
"She knew I loved her. I told her when I brought her here. So one night, after a disruption I had caused in a performance, I became furious when she ran with the Viscount to the roof and told him she loved him. I had been denied love all my life only to have it happen again from the most beautiful woman I had ever met. At the conclusion of the performance, I caused the chandelier to fall, and then faded away for about six months.  
  
"During that time, I completed my opera. I delivered it to the managers at a masked ball celebrating the New Year and my disappearance. It was performed with Christine in the lead. Part way through the performance, I secretly killed the leading man and took his place. The costume covered my entire body so no one knew it was me right away. Eventually, Christine figured it out and exposed me to the audience. She took my mask off so that everyone could see my face.  
  
"I brought her once more to my lair. The Viscount followed, and when he arrived I threatened to kill him if Christine didn't stay with me. She promised to be my wife and I let the Viscount go. Christine and I married in secret one night about a week later.  
  
"About a month after we had wed, we slept together for the first and last time. Although I knew she had indeed grown to love me, she wasn't happy. She missed the light and warmth she was used to. I brought the Viscount here and released Christine from her vows. I told Raoul to marry her right away and I told Christine to deliver me an invitation to their wedding. She didn't understand why I was making her leave me but she agreed.  
  
"About two weeks after she had left, I realized, after some convincing from.an advisor if you will, that Christine needed to be free of me forever. I took a potion that made me extremely weak and eventually made me appear dead. When Christine came back to deliver my invitation, she came into my room where she then watched me 'die'. I thought I had done the right thing, but now I don't think I did. She still loves me, and oh God do I still love her." I finished my story, dropped my head into my hands, and wept. My son now knew everything except for who his father truly was. 


	16. Daroga

Christian  
  
As Erik finished his story, I couldn't help but stare at him in wonder. This powerful man, who I had grown to respect so much, was now standing before me weeping for the woman he loved. I had also been shocked to learn that that woman was my mother.  
  
I was sure he had never told anyone that story before, yet it flowed from his mouth and created a picture no painter could ever recapture. I had so many questions for him. He had just told me almost everything about a time in my mother's life I had known almost nothing about; her glorious Opera days.  
  
The sound of a soft thud brought me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see that Erik had collapsed to the floor. He had himself held up by his arms, but, as I watched him, his arms seemed to give out beneath him. He now lay on the floor looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen him.  
  
Suddenly, he sat up and looked around. He jumped up and ran to the door. I stood up and watched him. He stepped outside briefly then came back in.  
  
"Damn you Daroga," he said quietly. "Christian!"  
  
"Yes Erik?"  
  
"I want you to go into your room and stay there until I say you can come out," he ordered.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Just go!" he said more forcefully. I walked into my room and shut the door behind me. I sat on the bed and waited. Suddenly I heard breaking glass and Erik yelling.  
  
"No Daroga! That is not what Hell is! Hell is having a son who doesn't know I'm his father! Hell is knowing that Christine sleeps next to another man each night! You want to see Hell?! Then just take a look at my life Daroga! That is what Hell is!" he roared. I had never heard him so angry. The Daroga must have responded for then I heard more glass breaking and Erik's voice again.  
  
"Leave me Daroga and do not come back! Go ruin someone else's life!" A moment of silence passed before I heard Erik scream "damn him!" and a door slam.  
  
I opened the door to my room a crack and looked out. Glass littered the floor of the lair. I tried to figure out which door had been slammed, but I had no idea. There were so many doors that I could never tell which one Erik had gone through. I finally just picked one and went through it. 


	17. Fighting the Darkness

Erik  
  
To be blunt, I couldn't stand the man. He always tried to tell me what to do and how to do it. So when he came and told me that he knew that Christine had seen me, I thought little of it. Then though he had the nerve to say that telling her again that I loved her would make her life Hell.  
  
After he left, I went out the door that led to the lake. My heart was beating rapidly and my vision was hazy. I fell to the ground and tried to slow my heartbeat. My vision grew darker and I found it harder to hold my head up. This is it, I thought, I'm dying this time.  
  
I put my head down and was about to succumb to the fatigue I felt when someone grabbed my shoulders and flipped me over. I opened my eyes and could faintly make out Christian's face above me.  
  
"Christian.." I whispered and grabbed his arms. "I'm dying." I could just barely see his eyes widen. He pulled me up off the ground.  
  
"No you aren't," he stated and helped me back into my lair. He led me to my bedroom and helped me lay down. I closed my eyes and felt my heartbeat slow. "Erik come on! Don't give up!" I slowly opened my eyes again when I heard a gasp from somewhere near my doorway. 


	18. The Picture on the Mantle

Christine  
  
"Oh God!" I cried. "Erik where is your medicine?!"  
  
"Christine. My Christine. You are so beautiful. I love you so much," he whispered. I sat next to him on the bed and took his hand. He was very cold.  
  
"Erik, please tell me where your medicine is," I begged quietly. He closed his eyes.  
  
"I'm so tired my love," he stated.  
  
"I know Erik, but you must tell me where your medicine is I repeated.  
  
"In my desk. It's in my desk," he rasped.  
  
"Christian, search his desk for a small white bottle," I ordered. As Christian searched, I slid the mask off Erik's face and kissed his cheek.  
  
"I'm sorry Christine," he said softly.  
  
"For what Erik?" I asked.  
  
"I won't be there to wait for you," he answered.  
  
"You won't be where?" I asked confused.  
  
"Heaven; I won't be in Heaven. A monster like me doesn't belong there," he stated.  
  
"Don't talk like that Erik. You're going to be fine," I said and began to stroke his hair.  
  
"I found it!" Christian called. He walked over to me and handed me the bottle.  
  
"Go get a glass of wine Christian," I instructed. "And please hurry." He ran out of the room, and I opened the bottle and dropped two pills into my hand. Christian came back in and handed me the glass of wine. I helped Erik sit up and take his pills. After he had taken them, I laid down next to him until he fell asleep. When I went out into the sitting room, I found Christian staring at something on the mantle. I walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Who is this?" he asked and pointed to a picture.  
  
"It's Erik's father," I stated. "Why do you ask Christian?"  
  
"Because I look just like him." 


	19. History Repeated

A/N: Just so everyone knows, I have decided to rate just this chapter R. (My friends thought it was a good idea.) Just to be safe. You'll see why at the end. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far. I'm grateful. Only two Chapters and the Epilogue left! But then you all have the sequel to look forward to...*soft maniacal laughter* Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I sighed. It was true. All three of them looked just alike.  
  
"Yes Christian, you do," was all I could think to say.  
  
"Don't you think that's a little odd?" he asked.  
  
"No, not really," I answered without thinking. He cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, I do. Erik looks just like his father and so do I, which means really I look just like Erik," he reasoned. "How is that possible?"  
  
"Don't you have any idea?" I asked. He laughed sarcastically.  
  
"Well, yes, but it's crazy. I mean you and Erik never...you know," he said.  
  
"Yes we did. Once," I stated.  
  
"Alright once. So what are you saying?" he asked.  
  
"What do you think I'm saying?" I inquired.  
  
"I'm going to ask you a question mother, and I want the truth," he told me. "Is Erik my father?"  
  
"Yes Christian," I replied. He stared at me wide eyed. I couldn't quite tell what he was thinking.  
  
"Does he know?" he questioned.  
  
"He has known since the day before he brought you here," I responded. "That's why he wanted to meet you in the first place."  
  
"Were you planning on keeping this from me forever mother?!" Christian yelled angrily.  
  
"To be honest, yes," I replied coolly. "I thought Erik was dead until about a week ago."  
  
"Why would you want to keep something like that from me?!" he cried.  
  
"I didn't want Raoul to find out! I was scared Christian!" I shouted and dropped to the floor. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.  
  
"Come here Christine." Erik's soft yet powerful voice cut through my sobs. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. He stroked my hair and calmed me down.  
  
"I love you Erik," I said quietly.  
  
"I love you too Christine," he replied.  
  
"Mother how can you say that?!" Christian yelled. "You have a husband for Christ's sake!"  
  
"Leave her be Christian," Erik ordered.  
  
"You'll leave me and father for him won't you?!" Christian continued ignoring Erik.  
  
"I said leave her be boy!" Erik yelled. He pulled away from me and moved towards Christian.  
  
"I know why you were afraid. You were afraid I would end up looking like him weren't you?" Christian spat. In one swift motion, Erik grabbed Christian by the neck and slammed him against the wall.  
  
"Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you. Permanently," Erik growled. He pulled Christian away from the wall and shoved him towards the door. "Get out of my house while you still have a chance."  
  
"Bastard," Christian muttered.  
  
"Out!" Erik shouted. Christian looked at me with a pleading look in his eyes before turning and walking out. Erik walked back to me and stroked my cheek. "I'm sorry I had to make him leave Christine. You do understand why I had to don't you? I didn't want to hurt him," he stated.  
  
"It's alright Erik," I said softly. "You should still be resting." He kissed me lightly on the lips then moved to my neck. I sighed and he brought his hands up to accompany his lips. He strayed to all the right places and lingered in each spot long enough to send chills of delight racing through my body.  
  
"Come with me," he murmured.  
  
"Oh, but Erik I-"  
  
"Come with me," he repeated. I couldn't fight him. He swept me up into his arms and carried me to his room. Moments later I was lying with him just as I had the night 15 years ago when he had claimed me as his.  
  
"I love you Christine," he whispered and history seemed to repeat itself. 


	20. Raoul Returns

Christian  
  
I paced back and forth in the back at the chateau, the morning after I had left Erik's lair, waiting for my father, or the man I had thought was my father, to come home.  
  
"Where the Hell is he James?!" I yelled angrily at our butler.  
  
"I think he's pulling up right now Monsieur," he stated. I yanked back the curtains and looked out the window. Sure enough, father's carriage was coming to a halt in front of our house.  
  
"James, take care of his bags. I need to speak with him immediately," I said.  
  
"Yes Monsieur," James replied bowing. I walked out into the hallway where father was just coming in.  
  
"Hello Christian," he said smiling.  
  
"I need to talk to you," I stated.  
  
"Alright just let me-"  
  
"I need to talk to you now. It's very important," I said.  
  
"Very well then. Why don't we go into the study?" We walked into the study and I locked the door behind us.  
  
"Where is your mother?" father asked.  
  
"With my father," I replied.  
  
"What are you talking about Christian?"  
  
"Mother is with Erik right now," I clarified.  
  
"You found out?" Father questioned.  
  
"Yes, I did," I said simply and sat on the divan. "Mother is there now."  
  
"That's not possible," Father argued. "Erik is dead."  
  
"No he isn't. He faked his death. He told me the whole story." Father cursed under his breath and walked to his desk. He opened the bottom drawer on the left hand side and pulled out a pistol.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked.  
  
"I'm going to get your mother," Father answered.  
  
"Well what's the gun for?" I questioned.  
  
"To kill Erik," he replied.  
  
"No! You can't!" I yelled. My shout had surprised us both.  
  
"I can and I will Christian! I have wanted to do this for a long time! Do not tell me what I can and cannot do!" Father shouted. "James! Escort Christian to his room and lock the door. He is not to leave," he ordered after he had gone out into the hall.  
  
"Yes sir," James replied. Father ran out of the chateau like a madman. While James wasn't paying attention, I attacked the pressure point is his neck, knocking him unconscious. I silently thanked Erik for his medical books, ran into the study, then ran out again to go out and ready a carriage. Ten minutes later, I was flying down the road to the Opera House. 


	21. Tears and Promises

Christine  
  
The next morning, after I got dressed, I went into the sitting room. Erik was sitting at his organ. A slow, peaceful melody drifted across the room. I walked to him and kissed his cheek. He stopped playing and turned around.  
  
"Bon matin mon chérie," he said.  
  
"Good morning," I echoed. He stood up and kissed my forehead.  
  
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.  
  
"Very well thank you," I replied.  
  
"I'm glad. Would you like something to-" Erik didn't finish his sentence for at that moment the door to the lair opened and a shot rang out. Erik gasped for breath and then collapsed to the floor.  
  
"Erik!" I shrieked. I looked to the door and saw Raoul. He stood with a blank expression on his face then he too fell to the floor. Behind Raoul stood Christian, a gun pointed to exactly where Raoul's head had been. He dropped the gun and ran to Erik's side. I did the same.  
  
"Erik," I moaned and cradled his head in my lap. He was breathing, but just barely so.  
  
"Christine," he whispered.  
  
"Don't speak Erik," I said.  
  
"I love you..."he trailed off and took my hand. He felt each of my fingers, and I could tell he was searching for the ring he had given me. When he found it, he smiled slightly and kissed my hand. "You have given me so much Christine. You h-have made me," he paused to regain his breath, "so happy. I'm glad I got to finally l-love someone."  
  
"Erik don't leave me!" I cried. "I love you!" Tears poured down my cheeks and Erik gently wiped them away.  
  
"The tears of an Angel should be spilt," he drew a raspy breath, "over someone more worthy of them than me," he murmured.  
  
"Erik I can't live without you!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Yes you can. Do it for me. Do it for Christian. He needs you," he said softly. He was slipping away from me and there was nothing I could do about it. "Promise me you'll do that for me."  
  
"I promise Erik," I sobbed.  
  
"Where is Christian?" Erik asked.  
  
"I'm right here Father," Christian said moving so Erik could see him.  
  
"Take care of your mother for me," Erik instructed.  
  
"I promise," Christian stated.  
  
"I love you Christian," Erik whispered.  
  
"I love you too father," Christian replied, silent tears running down his cheeks.  
  
"Christine," Erik said in barely a whisper. "My wife."  
  
"I'll always love you Erik," I said through my tears.  
  
"And I you Christine." His eyelids dropped down over his beautiful, golden eyes, and his hand on mine went limp. He was gone.  
  
"Oh God!" I cried and began sobbing uncontrollably. Christian wrapped his arms around me and we cried together for Erik.  
  
Three days later, there was a private funeral for Raoul. Only a few close friends and relatives attended other than Christian and I. The next night, at midnight, Christian and I watched as two of our most trusted servants buried my dear Erik. The Daroga was there as well.  
  
I cried, and still do, for my Angel. I've kept my promise tough and so has Christian. I go through each day knowing that Erik is watching over me. Sometimes, mostly at night, I wander through my garden or I go to the Opera and revisit the labyrinth. Sometimes, even still, I hear my Angel. When I do, I stop and I listen. I listen to my Angel and am haunted by the past. 


	22. Epilogue

Danielle  
  
11 years later  
  
"Mama who is this?" I asked and held up a sketch of a man. She took it from me and smiled.  
  
"It's your father," she replied.  
  
"Why doesn't he live with us?" I asked.  
  
"He lives with the Angels," she answered. She handed the picture back to me and I studied it carefully. He had dark hair like mine. His eyes, though I couldn't tell what color they were, seemed to glow.  
  
"What color were his eyes Mama?" I asked.  
  
"They were gold. Beautiful gold like yours," she stated. I smiled. I loved my eyes. Just then my brother walked in.  
  
"Christian look what I found!" I exclaimed jumping up and running to him.  
  
"What do you have there munchkin?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not a munchkin!" I yelled.  
  
"Really? I think you are!" he shouted and picked me up.  
  
"Christian put me down! I want to show you something!" I screamed. He let me down and I glared at him. "I'm not a munchkin."  
  
"Yes ma'am," he said laughing. "What do you want to show me?"  
  
"Look at the picture I found," I said. He took it from me and sat down on the divan.  
  
"You know who this is right?" he asked after a moment.  
  
"Yes, mama said that's our father," I replied, glad to know. Christian always likes to tease me about things I don't know. I climbed up onto the divan next to him. "Did you meet him Christian?"  
  
"Yes Danielle, I did meet him. He was an amazing person. I didn't know him for much longer than a week, but while I was with him I learned a lot about him," he answered.  
  
"Can you tell me about him?" I asked. He looked up at mother. She smiled and nodded.  
  
"Sure Danielle. What do you want to know?"  
  
"Everything!" I replied eagerly.  
  
"Everything? Where should I start?"  
  
"What was his name?"  
  
"His name was Erik. He was a great musician and composer," Christian started. I asked him to go on and he did. Mother occasionally added details to parts Christian didn't know. After they finished, I was left to wonder.  
  
Why was everyone so afraid of my father? Why were our lives so different? I reached up to my face and felt the right hand side. The side that my father had covered with a mask. Under my fingers I felt uneven skin, scarred and deformed. No one hated me for that. Why had they hated him so? One day, I vowed, I will find all the answers. 


End file.
